A review by jodiwilldare
The Astral by Kate Christensen
1.0
A few weeks ago I was having a discussion with Christa where I posited that big New York Publishers like books about New York where characters just wander around in their New Yorkness being all New Yorky with the utmost New Yorkitude. My prime example: Netherland by Joseph O’Neill which tons of people loved the crap of, but I would lay wagers on the fact that at least 3/4 of that tonnage was made up of New Yorkers.
Kate Christensen’s The Astral is another example I can add to my Crackpot Theory. In this novel, fiftysomething poet Harry Quirk wanders around Brooklyn being Brooklyn-y and pining for his estranged wife, Luz. She’s kicked him out of their apartment at The Astral because she’s convinced he’s having an affair with his longtime BFF, Marion, who’s been recently widowed.
Read more.
Kate Christensen’s The Astral is another example I can add to my Crackpot Theory. In this novel, fiftysomething poet Harry Quirk wanders around Brooklyn being Brooklyn-y and pining for his estranged wife, Luz. She’s kicked him out of their apartment at The Astral because she’s convinced he’s having an affair with his longtime BFF, Marion, who’s been recently widowed.
Read more.